


they could take you or leave you (so they took you and they left you)

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Character of Color, POV Female Character, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His breath is hot on your skin, the night you come to him at the Crag; it is gentle, too gentle, but it could be worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they could take you or leave you (so they took you and they left you)

His breath is hot on your skin, the night you come to him at the Crag; it is gentle, too gentle, but it could be worse.

After, you do not look at him, but lie there, your skin meeting at even points.

It could be worse.

 

 

Catelyn Stark, Lady of Winterfell, looks you in the eyes when she takes your hands and kisses your cheeks in the great hall of Riverrun.

(Her birthplace, you remember- you wonder if she thinks of it as her home, now, or has she been taken by the North completely?)

The places where her lips touch your face burn like hot iron, and for all her courtesies there is something in her eyes that is cold. But you curtsy and bow in front of your new mother and your old, and think that you have had your share of cold mothers, and Catelyn Stark will not faze you.

(You have not yet even seen Winterfell [or the bones of it, now-] but you can hardly remember the stones where you were born, and your breath comes shakily all the same.)

 

 

Queen in the North, you are now - nevermind that you have never been there, only distantly remember the last winter – Queen of somewhere you are a stranger to, and people who were your enemies until a few months past.

If someone were to ask you if this was what you wanted, that night (a long time ago, it seems) you could not tell them.

If someone were to ask you what you wanted now, you could not tell them either.

 

 

In the end, they murder your husband, and his mother, and all the rest, but you slip through their fingers.

You could be romantic and say you almost wish you hadn't, that you wish you had died at his side, but you are not that sort of a girl. Even if you were, that girl died a long time ago.

You are glad to live, resigned already to do what you must to survive.

It is not beautiful, but you are, now, more than you ever have been before, and you ride away from that place a woman with the ghosts of wolves at your heels.


End file.
